


Calendar

by Insazy



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe, Established Relationship, Half-Indian Iwaizumi, Iwaizumi Hajime-centric, Language, M/M, Model Iwaizumi, Universe Alterations, but it's important to me, i think, insecure iwaizumi, it's only slightly mentioned, oh boy does Iwaizumi swear, oiiwa - Freeform, so cannon happened
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-02
Updated: 2016-10-02
Packaged: 2018-08-19 00:19:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8181494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Insazy/pseuds/Insazy
Summary: Hajime can't believe Kuroo signed him up for this. Volunteering for a photo shoot for a charity calendar is something Hajime would never do, period. But he can't be angry at him because what are the chances they actually pick him out of the hundreds of other volunteers?





	

**Author's Note:**

> So, I have no idea what I'm doing. This is all amazing in my head and I have ideas galore for this au/ua but it doesn't translate very well so I did my best.
> 
> I did butcher the profession of photographer, so any information I give is probably wrong. Please don't hold me to it.
> 
> I have thought about writing a series about this au/ua. Because I have so many ideas for this and I know how to add certain characters in, and how Hajime's life is going to turn out. I spent hours filling in a notebook with headcannons.
> 
> Anyway, Enjoy!

Hajime kicks a rock into the garden in his backyard. It’s nearing midnight; the only light is the moon shining between the clouds. No one is out here but him. His mother had already turned in for the night because she had worked a double shift in order to attend his graduation ceremony earlier in the day. He, however, could stay up as late as he pleased. No more late nights completing homework or studying with Oikawa anymore. No more dragging Oikawa to bed before a practice match so he doesn’t stay up all night watching videos of their opponents the next day. No more playing volleyball in the Aoba Jousai gym. No more playing volleyball.

He shakes his head and scrubs his hair. What is he thinking? He can still play volleyball, still run up and spike the ball. He can still get together with Hanamaki, Matsukawa, and Oikawa and pick up a mini-game. Oikawa can still spike to him. Hajime stills at the thought.

But for how long?

“Iwa-chan!” Hajime straightens up from his slouch on the porch at the hushed yell. “Iwa-chan, are you awake?” He pushes himself to his feet and calls out a quiet greeting as he hurries to the front door. Unlatching the door, he opens it to find his vision obscured by Oikawa’s shoulder.

Arms wind around Hajime’s waist and warmth seeps through his body at every point Oikawa touches him. A blush works its way from his ears to his chest, giving his tan a pink hue. He feels Oikawa nose his ear and hot breath slithers down his neck. His body shudders and his hands latch onto the front of Oikawa’s jersey. What is going on?

Hajime lifts his head away from Oikawa’s shoulder and asks, “Oikawa? What’s going on?” His hands push lightly at his’s chest. Hard muscle meets his palms and Hajime swallows. “Oikawa?”

No answer. If Oikawa isn’t going to answer right away then Hajime is in for the long haul. He rolls his eyes. Trying to drag answers from Oikawa when he is in a mood is a pain in the ass. He reaches for the door and manages to shut it silently with a statue attached to him.

“If you’re going to be a damn statue, then at least be a moving one. We’re going to my room,” Hajime orders and starts making his way up the steps to his bedroom.

It doesn’t take long. Oikawa is an obedient dog when he wants to be, and follows Hajime dutifully into his bedroom without letting go. The only way they make it up the stairs without tripping is because Oikawa has a few centimeters on him. Fucking giant.

“Are you going to let me change or do I have to go to bed in jeans?” The arms around him tighten in response. “That’s a no, then.” Hajime leaves the lights off and slides into bed with a breathing body still attached to him. He rolls over so he’s staring at puffy brown hair attached to a head buried in his collar bone. Hot breath makes his collar bone damp. “What’s going on, Oikawa?”

Oikawa’s head finally lifts and Hajime’s breathe catches in his throat. A dark gaze sweeps down from his spiky hair to his wide eyes. It sinks deep into Hajime and seeps into his body, warming him up from the inside. The fire within those brown eyes burns him, leaving him with nothing but second degree burns and a lingering heat in his dick. The fingers at his waist slip under his shirt and curl into the small of his back. He shivers despite the heat.

Oikawa’s gaze softens and the molten rock smooths into warm chocolate. He leans forward and soft lips meet Hajime’s own. Hajime quickly winds a hand into brown tresses. If Oikawa wanted to kiss awhile before telling Hajime what’s bothering him, then he wouldn’t disagree. Only a little while, though.

“Iwa-chan,” Oikawa breathes into Hajime’s mouth, the word as tangible as smoke. Hajime closes his eyes, and then opens them. He meets Oikawa’s gaze.

“What are you worried about?” Oikawa ducks for another kiss. “No, Oikawa. Tell me or I’m going to bed right now.” He watches him sigh.

“What if we don’t make it?”

“What?”

Oikawa rolls his eyes. “Our relationship. We’re going to different universities, you for sports medicine and me on a sports scholarship.”

“Thanks for telling me something I already know.”

“Oh, fuck you, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa laughs out. His breathe fans against Hajime’s face and his arm wraps around him, pulling him closer. “Fine, fine. We’ve never been apart for so long so I’m worried we’ll drift apart.”

Hajime hums. “So you think being separated for so long will cause our relationship to fall apart?”

“Yeah,” Oikawa whispers.

Hajime sighs, then reaches upwards and flicks Oikawa on the forehead.

“Ow, what the hell?”

“You idiot!” Hajime growls. “That won’t happen. You text me during the day so often I have to delete my messages constantly. We will never drift apart because you are you—an annoying volleyball-obsessed setter who has to send me pictures of every damn cloud in the sky.”

“Rude!”

Hajime laughs at Oikawa’s pout. “It’s fine. When I’m at university I’ll text you about terrible professors and delicious food and whatever horrible outfit I see someone wear that day.” He smooths his thumb along Oikawa’s cheek. “Just don’t stop replying.”

Don’t stop replying to his texts about how professors are evil dictators and how the agedashi tofu at university tastes disgusting. Answer his phone calls that ask how Oikawa’s own life at university is doing—without Hajime there to keep him grounded. Answer him when he asks about his knee and if volleyball is as exciting as the brochures promised, even if Hajime isn’t his ace.

Oikawa gives Hajime a small smile. He turns his head and catches Hajime’s thumb with the corner of his mouth. His smile presses a facsimile of a kiss onto his thumb while his gaze remains riveted on Hajime’s own. A heavy weight slides down his throat and into his heart. He thinks it’s the sudden lust at the intimate gesture.

Hajime knows it's love. 

 

Hajime’s first day of university goes like this:

He wakes up at half past six and rushes to the showers. The upperclassmen who showed him his dorm told him that showers fill up fast in the morning so he needed to be early and fast in order to avoid panicky, late freshmen who ‘fucking don’t know thirty people and seven showers is shitty math.’

So Hajime showers and shaves like the devil is stalking him and reappears in his dorm with a good ten minutes before seven. He’s pretty sure he nicked himself while shaving, and thanks genetics he doesn’t have to shave every day so it can heal.

Hajime sits on his roommate’s bed to put on his socks and shoes. He wonders fleetingly where his roommate is. He met Takuhiza on the first day of move-in, but hasn’t seen him since. Hajime’s pretty sure he’s never even come back to sleep. He’s alive though, because the man’s books have disappeared from the shelf.

Pushing the worry out of his head, because Hajime’s not in charge of the man, he makes his way to the café nearest his dorm. He has his first class at half past seven so he just inhales a large bowl of cereal and saunters his way to class slowly so he can watch all the other students make their way into the large lecture hall.

The beginning is uneventful: the professor drones on about the syllabus and what to expect for the semester—and Hajime’s already bored and rests his head on his arm, eyes already drooping at the professor’s monotone voice. He cannot believe he actually signed up for a class this early. He’s nearly asleep when he is hit by something small and sharp.

Hajime jolts and kicks his volleyball bag when a pencil hits the side of his head, right at the temple. He looks over and sees the ugliest bedhead he has ever seen; even Oikawa’s had nothing on this guy’s black nest. The red sports bag at the guy’s arm catches his attention before his eyes drift up to see him pointing at the front of the class. Following the finger, Hajime darts his eyes to the board and sees information about future quizzes and exams written out. Oh, shit. Hajime quickly takes up his pencil and starts jotting down the information so he doesn’t fail his first class before it even officially started.

Class doesn’t last long after that and Hajime quickly puts his notebook in his volleyball bag before he turns to bedhead guy only to find the man staring at him in the seat next to him.

“Um . . . hi,” Hajime greets. “I just want to thank you for getting my attention earlier. I would have completely missed all that stuff.”

“Nah, don’t worry about it,” bedhead guy dismisses. “It was my one good deed for the day, now I can be as much of a dick as I want.” He smiles as Hajime laughs. “Kuroo Tetsurou, by the way.”

“Iwaizumi Hajime.”

Kuroo Tetsurou is the man who will forever be known to Hajime as the dick who didn’t wake him up for his first exam, and watched him rush into the exam room three minutes late wearing his pajamas and a comb stuck in his hair.

Hajime’s first year of college passes swiftly. He meets Sugawara Koushi his second week of college because Kuroo can’t decide his fucking major and keeps dragging him around to all the orientations, and the silver-haired man was in the nursing orientation they had jumped into last minute.

The new year is marked with Tooru and Hajime having sex for the first time. Both of them had gone back home to celebrate with their families, and their parents graciously allowed them some alone time in the Oikawa household. It had been sticky, messy, terrible, yet fantastic all at the same time. Being so close to Tooru almost makes Hajime tear up because he loves this boy. He loves his determination, his constant effort to reach his goal, his whole-hearted belief in his dream.

Hajime makes it through Tooru’s snotty goodbye as the once again separate to their different universities to follow their dreams. He goes back to phone calls every few days and picture messages of volleyball courts and netting.

Eventually their second year of university starts and Hajime starts focusing back on his studies. Not to say he doesn’t goof off, because he does. With Kuroo as a friend, who come with the extension of dares from Bokuto, it is never dull.

Classes go smoothly, and Hajime makes it past midterms with decent grades, so he, Sugawara, and Kuroo decide to celebrate so they agree to meet at a pair of benches right by the only fountain on campus.

“Tooru, Tooru, listen. Toor—fuck!” Hajime swears as he crashes into the bench he promised to meet Kuroo and Sugawara at. With one hand on his phone and the other carrying his bag, Hajime has no hands to save himself and he smacks his face into the bench seat. He just knows bruises will appear in a couple minutes. Kuroo, the bastard, is laughing at him from a bench close by. Hajime lets him have it though, because he laughed when he accidentally pushed Kuroo into the fountain the other day. Besides, he has Tooru on the phone.

“Sorry, sorry—ran into a bench. Wasn’t directed at you,” Hajime apologizes to Tooru. “But I do need to go, I’ve got plans with Kuroo and Sugawara right now.”

“But Iwa-chan,” Tooru whines. “I didn’t get to talk to you last night at all! This was supposed to make up for it.”

“I know, I know, Tooru. But you can’t expect me to just not hang out with my friends in order to talk to you,” Hajime says. “Look, I’ll text you later tonight when I’m free so we can talk then, okay?”

“Okay. I love you.” Hajime feels his ears heat up.

“I love you too. I’ll talk to you later.”

Hajime ends the call and flops onto the bench next to Kuroo; his head falls back and he rests his arm on his eyes.

“Having boyfriend troubles?” Kuroo teases, and he prods at Hajime’s side with a finger.

Sugawara leans forward from the next bench over and flicks the straw from his drink at Kuroo. “Kuroo, you can’t talk. When was the last time you talked to Tsukishima? I heard from Daichi, who heard from Yamaguchi, who listens to Tsukishima rant about you, that you two are in an argument right now.”

“Well, damn Sugawara, not all of us can be the married, domestic couple like you and Dadchi,” Kuroo snarks back.

Iwaizumi cuts in, “Let’s not talk about boyfriends right now. Because, honestly, I cannot handle another spiel about how Tsukishima just doesn’t understand your charm and you could get him to date you if he would just let you stick your tongue down his throat.”

“Ouch,” Kuroo cries dramatically, clutching his heart. “That hurts man. It really hurts.” Sugawara snorts and laughs at the man melting onto the sidewalk in dramatic agony. “But you got it wrong, man. That’s not the only place I want to stick my tongue.” Kuroo’s eyebrows wriggle as he sits on his knees.

“Oh, Jesus, Kuroo. There’s a reason I didn’t say that, fuck. I was trying to forget it,” Hajime growls and kicks him.

Sugawara puts a hand on Hajime’s shoulder. “It’s okay, Iwaizumi, I was trying to forget it too.” He kicks at Kuroo and knocks him onto his back while finishing to Hajime, “I’m sure Kuroo didn’t call us here just to talk about boyfriends.”

Kuroo nods vigorously and hops back up to take his position between the two adults again. “Yeah, so, do you guys remember that calendar thing they talked about at orientation this year?”

“Yeah, they talk about it every year. It was the same speech as last year. ‘Every year we hold a charity calendar where a theme is picked and students are the models,” Sugawara recites. “What about it?”

“Okay, so the sign-up has been posted, and I signed you two up.”

“What?”

"Why?”

Kuroo waves his hands at the two of them. “I couldn’t let this beauty go to waste. It’d be a shame to not let charity have such fine specimen such as you two.”

Sugawara’s eyes narrowed. “Bokuto dared you didn’t he.”

“Fuck yeah, he did.”

Hajime was still frozen on the fact that Kuroo signed him up for modelling. He didn’t know anything about modeling, besides that one time he was walking with Tooru and some man in a suit passed Tooru a business card, saying he would be perfect for the modeling industry. Like he was exotic or something because he looked foreign. Hajime couldn’t believe the man because he could recite Tooru’s entire family tree up to his grandparents’ grandparents and none of them were from fucking England.

If anything, Hajime had more foreign blood than Tooru. Fuck, his mother was Indian for crying out loud.

“So, I understand signing Sugawara up, because, yeah, he is really attractive, but why the hell did you sign me up?” Hajime asks, confused about why he was signed up.

Kuroo and Sugawara stare at him. Hajime stares back, expecting an answer.

“Fuck, did we forget to talk to him about his weird insecurity about his looks?” Kuroo asks Sugawara, looking over at the silvery, blond-haired man.

“Hey, don’t look at me! You’re the one who was supposed to remind me about it,” Sugawara accuses.

“Guys, I’m still waiting for an answer here.”

“No I wasn’t. Nobody would give me that sort of responsibility!”

“You were the captain of your high school volleyball team! You had plenty responsibility.”

“Guys!” Sugawara and Kuroo turn and stare at him. Hajime gestures his hands towards himself.

Nodding, Kuroo grips Hajime’s shoulder. “Look, just go do the thing. It’s for charity, yeah? There are hundreds of people signing up, so you probably won’t make it past the initial selection. Even if you do get picked for actually taking photographs, it’s still only 12 months with 30 participants trying for a spot.”

Those aren’t very good odds. But that’s what he’s going for, Hajime supposes. Kuroo’s right that he wouldn’t make it past the first selection anyway, so no need to get pissed off at him.

“Okay, fine. I suppose it’s not that big a deal.”

Hajime fucking eats those words when he receives a phone call a month later about being accepted for being a model for the charity calendar. It’ll take place in two weeks in one of the lecture bowls he’s never been in, and he’ll be the last one to go. Hajime says yes in all the right places, agrees to the time and place, and pleasantly says goodbye to the nice lady on the phone. Right after he hangs up he calls Kuroo and leaves a message full of swear words that makes his roommate blush.

The two weeks go by quickly with Kuroo laughing at him every time they meet. He even pulls out his phone every time the meet up and tells him to ‘face this way Iwaizumi’ and ‘don’t scowl at the camera, Iwaizumi’.

This time Hajime pushes Kuroo into the fountain on purpose.

Sugawara is more sympathetic to his plight, because he got chosen to do it too, but every time Hajime brings it up the silver-haired man stages a mini intervention about his insecurities and Hajime refuses to deal with that. Nope, no insecurities about his looks here, just the realistic facts that he isn’t the most handsome guy around.

The day of the photo shoot arrives and Hajime opens the door to the lecture hall where the photoshoot takes place only to stand in awe. He sort of understands why the photographer chose this specific hall for the shoot; it’s one of the larger ones, with stairs leading down into the pit where the professor lectures. It’s also an older building, or has an older professor, because a large chalkboard spans the wall behind the large desk for the professor. Large wooden counters stretch from the ends of the room on each floor with matching wooden chairs. It’s the perfect place for a hard working student to study and learn.

Hajime’s gaze sweeps through the room and his green eyes widen at the sight of hastily set-up light stands and fixtures, giving the room an artificial glow. Books from dictionaries to what Hajime thinks is a medical book from the anatomy class he takes are stacked up on the back table. Glasses, pencils, rulers, and even snack bars litter the stubby table next to the door.

But what really surprises Hajime is the clothing rack against the wall. It hadn’t registered that he actually needed to model clothing. To him, he just needs to show up, sit for a few pictures, and go home. They probably wouldn’t even use his photos in the magazine, not when people like Sugawara were taking photos too.

There’s nobody in the room. Maybe they’re on a short break, Hajime muses, or they finished and have yet to take everything down. He snorts. He’s not that lucky. Either way, he’s already here so he shuffles his way to the clothes to see what he would be wearing.

Everything on the rack has been separated into different outfits, Hajime notices. Pulling one out, he flattens out the tag stickered to it and finds a name written in red ink. He checks another outfit and finds a different name. So every volunteer had their own outfit to wear for this thing?

He flicks through the rack, searching for his name in the clutter of cloth. Seeing the bold kanji for ‘Iwaizumi,’ he grabs the hanger and swings the clothing out gently from the rack. Hajime’s first reaction is _holy shit_ this clothing must be expensive. He doesn’t own anything that comes near to what the price tag must be on this outfit. It’s not even anything fancy, just slacks, a dress shirt, and a cardigan, but the quality of the fabric feels like something Iwaizumi would steal out of Oikawa’s closet, not something he would own himself.

A heavy weight solidifies in his chest and Hajime thrusts the clothes back onto the rack. What is he even doing here? He doesn’t know anything about modelling or fashion. He can’t even afford these clothes. He wouldn’t even buy them if he could afford them. Hajime feels dumb by just standing in this room, in the scuffed sneakers he’s owned for four years and sweats that are ripped at the hems.

Hajime shakes his head roughly and scrubs his hair. He’s being a dumbass, and Hajime can imagine Tooru telling him off for even thinking about being embarrassed. He likes his clothes (the sweats are only ripped because he keeps stepping on the bottoms), and he wouldn’t want to own any of this clothing anyway.

Before he can step away from the rack, the door swings open and a middle-aged woman hurries through. A camera hangs from her neck, and from what Hajime can tell it’s a decently expensive one, but not something he thought would be at a photoshoot for an actual magazine.

“Oh, you’re already here,” she says when she sees him standing at the rack. “I’m sorry, I had to step out for a moment. I hope you haven’t been here too long.”

Hajime shakes his head and ducks his head in a short bow. “Please, don’t worry about it. I haven’t been here for long, and I don’t have anywhere to really be after this. My classes are over for the day.”

“Perfect. I’m Rai Yuuki, and I’m one of the best photographers for Tokyo Fashion.” That’s not very humble but whatever, she could be the top photographer in the country and Hajime wouldn’t know.

“Iwaizumi Hajime.”

Rai nods and waves at the clothing behind Hajime. “Found the clothing for the shoot? Did you find yours?”

“Yeah.”

Rai stares at him for a while so Hajime starts to fidget. His hand comes up and scrubs through his hair. She laughs. “Relax, Iwaizumi. Just looking at the model, getting a feel for the angles.”

“Angles?”

Rai waves her hand dismissively and turns away to a table covered with camera parts. “Don’t worry about it right now. Why don’t you get dressed so we can get started? Don’t worry about stepping out of the room, I won’t turn around until you’re done.”

“Okay,” Hajime agrees, and starts changing. He only gets the pants on before Rai starts asking him questions.

“So why did you sign up for this photoshoot?”

“One of my friends signed me up.”

Rai snorts. “You serious?”

“Yeah.”

“Why’d you go through with it?”

Hajime pauses. “Uh, because it’s for charity? Yeah, I think I can deal with the teasing by my dick friend since it’s for charity.”

Rai laughs so hard she drops a lens. “Wow, that’s one way to put it.”

He flushes. “Sorry.”

“Nah, don’t worry about it. Though your story does remind me of someone else I had to shoot. He said his friend signed him up too. Silver hair, mole under his eye, what was his name,” she mumbles.

“That’s Sugawara,” Iwaizumi replies. “He’s my other friend who got signed up.”

“Yeah, Sugawara, that’s his name. Wait, if your friend signed you both up, then how did he know yours and Sugawara’s measurements for the application?”

Hajime snorts and pushes up the sleeves of the cardigan and dress shirt. “It’s Kuroo. He probably fucking measured us in our sleep or something.”

Rai guffaws. “Would he really do that?”

“He would. I’m done, by the way.”

“Great.” Rai turns around and Hajime sees her nearly fumble her camera. His brow furrows. She should take better care of that camera since he hasn’t seen an extra one anywhere.

“Holy shit,” she breathes.

“What was that?”

“Nothing,” she replies. “So how do you like your clothes?”

Hajime pulls at the cardigan bunched above his elbows. “Well, it’s a little tight around the arms and the thighs but it fits.” His hand lets go of the cardigan and reaches up into his hair again. “I had some questions, though.”

“Shoot.”

“I don’t really understand the process. I mean, I’ve never thought about how modelling works so could you take me through how to do this?”

Rai laughs and gestures for him to take a seat in a chair at the top of the lecture hall. He slips into a chair as she starts in. “Sure. Thanks for being honest about it. You wouldn’t believe the amount of volunteers I got that thought they knew everything about being a model. I even had to kick one out.”

“Really?”

She nods. “Anyway, we don’t have any make-up so don’t worry about that.” Hajime hadn’t even thought about make-up. Why would he have to wear make-up? “Also, no hairstylists this year so your hair will have to look like fingers have tried to rake it,” she teased. Hajime quickly tried to comb his hair out, flattening his spikes. “Don’t worry about it. This is for charity. No one cares if your hair is professionally done or looks like you just woke up and ran here.”

“Okay.”

“Now, I’m just going to take some test shots to get a feel for you, so don’t worry about posing or your face or anything. This are literally just to make you comfortable and for me to check your angles.”

Hajime nods. “There you go with angles again. I’m not really following what you mean when you say that.”

Rai’s camera starts flashing as starts to take pictures. “Since you’re so curious, I’ll explain.” She takes a few steps to the left. “Okay, so angles are all about how your body moves in respect to the camera. Say if I move the camera,” she shift the camera to peer up at Hajime, and he looks down at her, “down—no, keep looking up—I’m getting a different angle of your face than you just looking straight on.”

Hajime nods and turns his head slightly to the right. “So it’s all about the different directions the camera captures?"

“Exactly! The lighting can shade certain aspects of the face, such as cheekbones or even highlight eye colour. Speaking of eye colour,” Rai says. “You have some gorgeous eyes there.”

Hajime blushes. “Uh, thank you.”

“Yeah, yeah, we definitely need to takes some photos focused on your eyes.” Rai turns towards her props and plucks a pair of glasses out. “Here, put these on. I want to see if they make the photos focus.” Hajime slips them on, and runs both his hands through his hair, interlocking his finger behind his neck. He’s sometimes wonders what he looks like with glasses. Tooru has them, but never let Hajime wear them because Tooru barely wears his anyway.

Hajime starts glaring. Stupid Tooru never takes care of his health. Sometimes Hajime couldn’t persuade him to even wear his contacts so the idiot walks around unable to see anything farther than 3 feet in front of him. And then he whines when he gets hit in the face with a volleyball. Of course you will if you can’t even see the goddamn ball until its smashing into your face!

FLASH! Hajime jerks back and pinwheels his arms as he balances on two chair legs before he goes crashing to the ground. He lays there dazed for a few seconds before his arm goes up to cover the upper half of his face, where he is positive a deep flush has started. He sighs harshly, and doesn’t move as another flash lights up his prone body.

“Are you okay, Iwaizumi?” Rai asks. “I didn’t mean to startle you. I just really like that pose and wanted to take it while the emotion was still in your eyes.”

Emotion? What is she talking about? Hajime rolls off his chair and gets to his feet. “No, it’s fine. I was thinking about something, don’t worry about it.”

Rai raises an eyebrow at him. “You weren’t even thinking about the shoot? Seriously? Most people are so conscious of the photographer all they can think about is how they want to portray themselves to the camera.”

“But you said they were just test shots and I shouldn't worry about it.” Hajime shrugs. “So I didn’t.”

“You must be a very straightforward person, Iwaizumi.”

“Oh?”

"Yeah. So now that I’ve taken a few practice shots, I’m gonna give you a couple poses and props. Don’t be afraid to vary from the poses I give you because what you do naturally is usually the best picture anyway.”

Hajime nods and goes through the rest of the shoot with little difficulty. The props were trashed for his pictures because Rai didn’t like how he focused too much on them so that his facial expression never changed. Eventually, she lets him go after he changes and a promise to send the calendar to him if he actually gets put into it.

He really doubts it. He’s not like Sugawara or even Tooru, with their softer, lighter looks. Hajime has black spiky hair that refuses to lay flat despite the one time he used his mother’s industrial strength hairspray on it, and the tan skin he inherited from his mother does not fit with the stereotypical beauty of Japan. He’s not tall compared to his friends, and Sugawara might be shorter than him, but he has the slenderness working in his favor. Hajime’s stocky, wide at the shoulders and thin at the hips.

Tooru once told him that his ass was amazing, and his arms were to die for, and he knows Tooru loves his thighs because he sucks hickeys into them every time they have sex, so Hajime knows he is attractive. He’s just not up there with people like Akaashi. Then again, no one is up there with Akaashi.

So Hajime moves on from the photo shoot and puts it out of his mind. He tells Tooru about it because he knows it’ll get back to him via the weird social oblong that is all the volleyball members they used to play against. But Tooru is busy training because scouts have started showing up at his university looking for new hopefuls, and Tooru can barely remember to shower every day, so Hajime doesn’t expect the conversation to stay in his brain.

Finals come in fast enough that Hajime was struck over the head with them and now lives in the library with Kuroo, sucking down coffee as fast as it can percolate and watching Kuroo throw skittles in his mouth for the sugar rush until he throws up the rainbow.

After the hell that is his last day of finals, Hajime finds himself laying down on the bench he always meets Kuroo and Sugawara at. The silver-haired man is playing on his phone, giggling after every chime, and Hajime is pretty sure he is texting Daichi because nothing can make Sugawara smile like that except Daichi.

“Hey!” The loud shot jolts Hajime from his half doze and he jerks into an upright position until he can see Kuroo sprinting up the them with something being waved above his head in his hand.

Sugawara looks up. “Where have you been, Kuroo? We’ve been sitting here for ten minutes, and you’re the one who told us to get here as quick as possible!”

Kuroo skids up to them and pushes the papers into Sugawara’s chest. “Well, I had to get proof, Mr. February. It’s not every day two of my very good pals’ photo get put into a calendar.”

Hajime turns towards Sugawara, his eyes focused on the papers pushed against his chest. Now that he can see it, it definitely is a calendar. Trying to remember why Kuroo would have a calendar, Hajime takes it from Sugawara and flips to February. A picture of Sugawara in a lab coat while holding a biology text book stares up at him.

Calendar. Photo shoot. Right.

Kuroo leans over their shoulders. “Look at that sexy man. If Daichi didn’t already have dibs I’d totally ask you out right here, Sugawara.”

“Don’t you have Tsukishima to harass with your love?” Sugawara asks.

“Yeah, well, I accidently traumatized Tsukki’s brother by sending sexy pics to Tsukki’s phone and Akiteru got a hold of them.” Kuroo put his hands on his hips and looks proud. “I am officially grounded form Tsukki for three weeks!”

“And why are you happy about that?”

“Don’t you get it! Tsukki’s brother knows I am potential romantic partner so he’s being all overprotective. That means Tsukki is into me!”

“If you say so.”

Hajime brings the topic back around. “Wait, Kuroo. Didn’t you say both of us are in the calendar?”

Kuroo smirks and flips a through the calendar. “Oh, yeah, your got a really good spot, Mr. November.” He flips from October, a man with clips in his hair and flash cards in his hand, to November.

It’s Hajime. He can recognize that it is one of the first shots Rai did with him because he’s wearing glasses—she had him take them off the rest of the time—and he can’t believe what he’s looking at.

He is the epitome of the sexy ‘hardworking student’. He’s leaning back in his chair like he’s just stretching, taking a break from studying the books set to the side. The cardigan and dress shirt are rolled up to his elbows, revealing strong forearms that frame his head as his hands interlock behind his hair. The thin, square glasses bring to focus his eyes, where the deep green of his irises hold the middle of the picture, strong and heated, like he is glaring at something, frustrated with his studying.

Hajime knows its himself, can remember the exact moment this picture was taken, remembers the tumble he took to the floor right afterwards. He does not remember looking like this, though.

“Damn. Never mind, Sugawara. I’ll think I’d rather hit on Iwaizumi, instead. No hard feelings.”

“None taken. I’d hit on Iwaizumi.” Sugawara touches the photo. “You are so handsome in this, Iwaizumi. I think Oikawa would love one of these.”

Before Hajime can reply his phone rings, and he jumps. Flinging the calendar at Sugawara, he digs in his pockets and pulls out his phone.

“This is Iwaizumi Hajime.”

“Oh, perfect! Iwaizumi, this is Rai Yuuki. I was the photographer for the charity calendar by Tokyo Fashion.”

“H-hello, Rai. What can I do for you?”

“That’s the thing, Iwaizumi. I really enjoyed your shoot and think you have talent. I’d like to get together with you and talk about a possible job opportunity with Tokyo Fashion.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really.” Hajime listens to the static-disrupted laugh over the phone. “How about next week, at Café Sweets? At two in the afternoon?”

Hajime absently nods. Kuroo climbs over the back of the bench to sit beside Sugawara where they both stare at him. “Two sounds great.”

“Alright, see you then!”

“Goodbye.” Rai hangs up with a sharp click, and Hajime lowers the phone from his ear.

Kuroo leans closer. “Hey, what was that, man?”

Hajime turns towards them. “I, uh, just got offered a job to be a model. I think.”

What. Just. Happened.


End file.
